The Commonality of Duality

This evening’s special feature of the F train was a brand new makeshift diaper-changing station.

A young-looking woman and an older-looking woman were partnering up to take care of three babies with two strollers.

On the knee of the young-looking woman was a miniature buttocks, smooth as silk.

The usual makeshift eating stations were disturbed by the sharply competing aroma.

Most people did not wish to observe the hijinks on the diaper-changing side of the F.

And innovative as it was, I confess that I wondered about the hygiene of such a situation.

Feeling most sorry for the little kid who, unbeknownst, became the spectacle to a dozen strangers, I sat down with an unwitting front-row seat to process the entire scene at hand.

Just as soon as I’d landed on the bench-style seat, I suddenly heard the young woman cry, “You mind your own business!!”

I became highly self-conscious.

Quickly glancing at her to determine the target of her exclamation, I was exceedingly careful not to make eye contact.

Relieved it was not me being fired at, I witnessed her proceed to bawl out one of my unfortunate neighbors.

Then I looked up at the sign above me that flashed freshly:

“If you see something, say something…”

I felt this to be fantastically apropos!

Nevertheless, I would decidedly not say something!

Then a woman entered the train begging for money.

“I’m hungry,” she creaked.

The two women with the baby-care subway innovations appeared rather under-privileged to my eye in spite of the plastic bags with recent purchases for the children.

Yet, I had this instinctual reaction that as soon as the homeless woman would pass them by, I could foretell they would be the ones to donate to her cause.

And this is precisely what took place.

In fact, I did not see any other donations offered.

I did not offer anything myself, though my heart went out to the lady.

And as she said, “God bless you” to the potentially underprivileged donors, I thought I could perceive God’s blessing upon them along with the unique situation of all souls, shrouded in layers upon layers of duality.

In such a world, we all must sort through that deep mire of duality and successfully navigate the paradoxes and complexities to the best of our abilities at each passing moment of each passing day.

Humbled, I prayed to earn the wisdom to walk this path nobly, for to pretend the world exists in black and white is to miss out on all the splendid color…

I Just Want to Have A Moment with My “Miracle Mouthwash”!

On assignment for my mentor, I marched determinedly through the West Village avenues, having performed the full crosstown commute on foot.

It was 9 a.m. and the streets were barren in the calm after the storm of another Friday night in Manhattan.

The mission: Seize and send a “Miracle Mouthwash” overseas…

It is apparently difficult to procure a bottle of the apparently covetous Uncle Harry’s hygienic product outside its native home of the brave…

According to my rough calculation, only one store in the city carries the mouthwash, and that’s precisely where I was headed! I was delighted to be of simple service for someone who has done more for me than I can hope to repay.

I just wished I’d slept a little sounder the night before and had a little more free time at my fingertips.

As I entered the Elm Health Chelsea location, I was overcome with a sense of existential dread.

Running a startup doesn’t treat monastic practices kindly, I’ve come to realize… Since leaving the monastery and aspiring to carry its work to the outside world the best I can, I’ve noticed my sacred habits are hard to uphold.

Not that they were ever easy, but just more within control via the freedom to make them the focal point.

Now, when I need it most, life has a way of getting the best of my meditation… Within the aisles of the matchless grocery store, my meditation sustained from the morning… There was an old sadhu who used to chant his mantras in the blaring streets of Bombay.

When asked why, he would say, “if I can concentrate here, I can concentrate anywhere.” Hardcore training.

I always loved that! However, for me, practicality played a significantly more prominent role…

To study under the swami I was preparing to send a bottle of Uncle Harry, 16 rounds a day of meditation on beads is the standard of seriousness.

That’s about two hours, depending on your pace.

Needless to say, it’s a challenge to find two hours in this day and age in “the capital of the world” (as coined on the official website of New York City!).

Where does the time go? I’d been doggedly trying to stabilize my sadhana – Sanskrit for practices – ever since I started on my path.

For three years, I’d managed to awaken daily before the crack of dawn for my meditation and more sacred luxuries that become necessities when you experience the benefits.

Today, I aim for 6.

If I get there, it’s phenomenal! Today, I didn’t get there… Feeling like a failure, while facing the tooth powders, I took a moment for my mantras.

I finished my round and then I stopped.

In some kind of twilight between meditation and returning to the world of the weighty, I heard the Simple Minds sing their song – the only one that anyone I know knows despite their successful touring, accompanied by, imaginably: other songs.

It was a live version.

And as it faded away with the crowd “La da da da-ing” like mad, I thought to myself, “I want to have ‘a moment’!” You know, like in the movies! Where it’s really “a moment”…

And it’s magical.

Times Square disappeared its people for Tom Cruise! That kind of “moment”! I needed it… On the verge of its impending manifestation – I could feel it in my bones – a gentle instrumental of strings and piano gradually graced my ears with its elegance.

I was shocked.

From trying to get a girl to remember your name as you walk on by to an orchestral piece of celestial merit was something rather unexpected, to say the least.

I smiled alone in the aisle.

Standing before the Miracle Mouthwash that returned my gaze, I suddenly realized that Uncle Harry wasn’t the only one watching.

In the emptiness of an ungodly New York hour, one middle-aged woman managed to walk in on my “moment”! I don’t think she knew what she was stumbling upon, but it made me move on nonetheless… I hastily grabbed the mouthwash and got the juice-master to take off one of his gloves to ring me up at the counter.

Before I went off to the Post Office with the gift of gargle, I pondered the meaning of the “moment”.

What are we looking for out of life? And is it the same as what we purport to look for? I think what I was after was a feeling of presence again.

To finally feel like I’m really here, as my full self, even at a supermarket, and I’m not alone, though I’m solitary.

Perhaps that’s what each of us seeks in our respective ways and with varying degrees of success.

I hope my meditation and spirit of service will guide me to that place where I visit regularly but have not yet been able to pay the price to stay.